


Lucky (No Plans But You)

by jehans



Series: Hand to Hand Universe [2]
Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Captain America Septender Challenge 2019, Comfort, Comfort No Hurt, Dreams and Nightmares, Fix-It, Hand to Hand universe, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Endgame, Tenderness, except for one brief nightmare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-07 23:24:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20825540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jehans/pseuds/jehans
Summary: And yeah, the nightmares are bad, but they always have been. The difference now is that for the first time, he’s being woken up out of them by the love of his whole life. And that’s a big fucking difference.---Steve has a nightmare. Bucky wakes him up.Part of the Captain America Septender Challenge 2019





	Lucky (No Plans But You)

**Author's Note:**

> -Shows up to Septender 20 minutes late with nightmares-
> 
> Squealing in right at the end here, but I couldn't NOT write loveydovey post-nightmare comfort!fic, okay? This exists in the same universe as my ongoing Falcon-and-Winter-Soldier-show, [Hand to Hand](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19147687), which takes place one year after Endgame, in which Steve and Bucky are now married and sharing a brownstone with Sam, while Sam and Bucky share the title of Captain America, but you haven't read that yet, you can still read this on its own! This is only nine days post-endgame, almost a year before their wedding.

_Snap_

Steve shoves forward, bare hands clenched around cold, unforgiving metal, screaming through the pain. Violet fire blasts him back, throwing him across the dirt, launching grit into his eyes. He pushes himself up at the sound of Bucky’s voice calling his name like a frightened question, eyes snapping to Bucky’s, and he knows this is the last time. The last time he’ll ever see that exact shade of blue. The last time he’ll see Bucky’s face, and Bucky is _scared_.

_Snap_

And then the dust comes. Pouring out of Bucky at first, until his rifle drops and it’s clear that the dust is _him_, that his body is turning to dust before Steve’s eyes. Just gone, just ashes. And nothing Steve can ever do will bring him back together, will bring back those eyes or their light. He’ll never watch those eyes open slowly in the warm glow of sunrise, never see them crinkle in soft joy at seeing Steve lying next to him, never feel the warmth of those lips on his skin ever again. Not anymore.

A scream rips through him, all-encompassing, every atom of Steve’s being crying out in the agony of facing an unyielding life, hollowed out of love or any meaning — until a warm hand cups his face.

“Steve.”

His eyes flutter open into cool, quiet darkness, and the safety of Bucky’s face.

“Buck?”

Bucky smiles in bed beside him. “You having a nightmare?” he asks, his voice deep and groggy.

The absolute terror and grief clenched around Steve from his dream washes out like the tide and he turns his face into Bucky’s hand to kiss his palm, hot and alive and whole.

“Yeah,” Steve replies huskily into Bucky’s hand and leaves it at that.

Bucky’s calloused thumb brushes across Steve’s nose and cheekbone as Steve breathes in the scent of his sleep-soft skin. “Thanos again?”

Steve nods.

The hand pulls away from his face and no, Steve doesn’t want that, but it’s only so Bucky can push himself up and closer to Steve and lean down to kiss Steve’s face with honest tenderness.

“I’m right here,” he murmurs against Steve’s cheek as Steve wraps his arms tightly around Bucky’s chest. “‘M not going anywhere.”

Steve sniffs sharply through his nose, the memory of the dream clearing away like fog dissipates with the sun’s rise. “You better not be,” he grumbles, pressing his face into Bucky’s neck and breathing him in again.

Bucky mumbles a laugh. It’s been nine days exactly since Steve came back from returning all of the Infinity Stones to their proper timelines, and then mindlessly — traumatized from the depth of the losses he’s constantly suffered in his short, long life — trying to take back everything he’d ever lost by returning to a long-dead dream and a life he had no right to take. Nine days since coming, finally, screechingly, to his senses and desperately catapulting himself through time to return to the family and the love he left behind.

Nine days spent in their entirety with Bucky at his side, in his arms, in his bed. Nine days of finally being _together_, not just beside Bucky but _with_ him, with no looming goodbyes. Just them — just _us — _and meaning it.

The best nine days of Steve’s entire life.

And yeah, the nightmares are bad, but they always have been. The difference now is that for the first time, he’s being woken up out of them by the love of his whole life. And that’s a _big_ fucking difference.

Bucky shifts so he’s half lying on top of Steve instead of propping himself up over him and Steve sighs happily at the weight. Reaches up and cards his fingers through Bucky’s soft, loose curls, still just barely damp from the shower they took together before bed. He can still smell the shampoo he worked through this hair just a few hours ago.

“Love you,” Steve mumbles, still inarticulate from sleep. It’s a firm, insistent declaration. He can feel Bucky’s smile against his cheek before Bucky lifts his head and shines it down at him instead.

“Love you, too, babydoll.” Bucky’s smile is the most beautiful thing in the whole universe, Steve is sure of it.

Letting out another happy huff of air, Steve hugs Bucky tight enough that he grunts and starts to bat Steve away.

“Let go, ya big meatball,” Bucky complains, “I’ve got ribs in here, Stevie!”

Steve relents reluctantly, loosening his hold but not entirely letting go. “I don’t wanna,” he whines. “I wanna squeeze you for the rest’a my life, Buck.”

Bucky laughs, loud this time. “Well, you got _time_, don’t ya?” he growls, still wiggling but not making any real effort to get away. “I mean you don’t got other plans, right?”

Steve can’t take how much he loves this man. How perfectly blue and soft his gaze is, searching deeply into Steve’s eyes like there’s actually any question of his answer.

“No plans but this,” Steve breathes into the space between them. “No plans but you. And you. And more you.”

“Sap.” Bucky shoves at Steve like it doesn’t matter to him, but Steve can see the way his eyes get misty, the way his smile presses at his dimples.

They spent a long time just barely missing each other. A long, long time trading silent longing with no real hope of ever finding their way into each other’s arms. Being together now is like finally being able to breathe after a lifetime of holding his breath.

Steve pulls at Bucky again until Bucky comes to him, pressing their lips together softly, then opening his mouth as Steve pushes in further, licks into Bucky’s mouth. Bucky hums a songlike laugh against Steve’s mouth and nips at Steve’s bottom lip before lifting his head up out of Steve’s reach again.

“You tryin’ to get fresh?” he drawls softly in mock horror, a dopey grin plastered all over his face. “Trying to take _advantage_ of me?”

Steve chuckles, running his fingers through Bucky’s hair again. “You’re just so pretty, baby,” he wheedles, playing along. “And I’m so sweet on you. I only wanna kiss you a little.”

“Yeah, right,” Bucky laughs and brushes his fingers over Steve’s jawline. “You’re lucky I’m so sweet on you, too.”

“I am lucky,” Steve agrees, running his hands over Bucky’s back. “I’m so goddamn lucky, Buck. I love you more than anything, you know that?”

Bucky hums in confirmation, his eyes tracing the path his fingers continue to take over Steve’s jawbone.

“Do you really?” Steve presses with utmost sincerity, and Bucky’s eyes move to meet his. “Do you know how utterly, completely obsessed with you I am?”

“_Obsessed_, huh?” Bucky asks, still teasing, but Steve wants him to understand. Wants him to _know_.

“Bucky, I love you so _fucking_ much,” he breathes insistently. “I love every little bit of you. Your smile and your frown, your good days and your bad days, your dimples and that little crease you get in-between your eyebrows. I love them all. I love being with you. I hate being without you. I won’t _ever_ lose you again, and I swear that on my life. You’re my whole fucking world, love.”

The little crease in-between Bucky’s eyebrows is offset by the overflow of love in his eyes, the soft little smile on his lips.

“Shit, Stevie,” he whispers. “That’s a whole lot.”

“It’s what I got,” Steve breathes back.

Bucky swallows. Blinks hard. “Ah — I . . . ,” he stammers, then fixes Steve with his perfect, blue gaze. “Goddamnit, I love you too, Steve. Always have, always will. To my bones.”

Steve can feel his smile practically break his face with its intensity. “God, Buck,” he soughs, “how come you’re always so much more eloquent than me?”

It makes Bucky laugh out loud again. “Like hell I am!” he shouts as Steve takes the opportunity to roll them over, flipping them both so he’s on top. Just where he likes to be. “Aha!” Bucky cackles, “you _were _coming on to me! Nightmare make you horny, sweetheart?”

“_You_ make me horny,” Steve presses, running his hand under the hem of Bucky’s shirt, up his chest.

“Well,” Bucky murmurs, his own hands brushing over the width of Steve’s bare shoulders, “lucky for you, that feeling is mutual.”

And Bucky pulls Steve down to him, and Steve kisses into the sweetness of Bucky Barnes’ perfect mouth, one hand lit on the edge of his perfect jaw, and he thinks how he never thought, in his whole short, long life, that he could ever be _this_ goddamn lucky.

**Author's Note:**

> [Hand to Hand the series](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19147687)
> 
> Come say hi on twitter: @apblaidd. And check out my pinned tweet if you like my writing and want to see more, or would like to see more of these extras!


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